Chapter Text
It's Saturday afternoon, and Chris has been frowning at his phone for almost an hour. Josh Washington sits at the top of an empty message thread, and the smirk emoji next to his name is definitely mocking him. He groans and types out,"Hey. :)" before deciding it looks weird and deleting it. Again.
His phone buzzes in his hand and he jumps in surprise, accidentally tossing it to the floor. "Dammit," he mutters to himself, reaching for the phone and flipping it over to see a message from Ashley.
Ashehole: Hey, whatcha up to?
He's embarrassed to answer truthfully, and almost as though she's read his mind, another text comes in.
Ashehole: Pls tell me you've texted him by now
And don't lie to me
He clicks his tongue and turns his phone in his hand a bunch of times before responding.
Chris: nothing really, why? missing me already? ;D
Ashehole: I saw you yesterday, and you're avoiding the question.
Chris: hence the "already"
Ashehole: Avoiding. The. Question.
Therefore I'll take that as a no
Chris: you're so perceptive
how do u do it?
Ashehole: WHY?
Almost simultaneously, a photo of Ashley sipping coffee on their favorite couch takes up his entire screen, and his phone buzzes insistently. He sighs and presses the green button to accept her call.
"Light of my life," he says flatly.
"Why haven't you texted him?" she asks, ignoring his smart remark. "It's been like two days."
"Tell me something I don’t know,” he replies, slightly agitated and self-conscious.
"Are you really going to make him wait? That's so rude and outdated, Christopher. Honestly, I-"
"Outdated?" he interrupts.
“Yes, outdated. You know, how some people wait three days before they call after a date? It’s stupid. Please don’t tell me you’re doing that.”
"Woah, hey. I don't even know the guy like that, much less have I dated him." He runs his fingers through his hair, frowning with new concern that he may be inadvertently hurting Josh's feelings.
"Well, how are you supposed to get to know him if you don't talk to him? You want to, right?"
"I-"
"I know you do, Chris. Don't try to talk around it."
"I don't know what to say, Ashe," he tells her. “I really have tried like. A zillion times.”
"Just start with, 'Hey, what's up?' or something like that."
"Oh geez, I hadn't thought of that. I've been thinking about opening with, 'Your eyes are super dreamy,' but that seems too forward," he responds sarcastically.
"That's it. You've got a smack coming your way," she laughs, prompting Chris to as well. "Seriously, though. You're overthinking it," she says gently.
Chris groans and thunks his head against the wall behind him. "As always."
"At least you know. Come on, I need the juicy details already, so get on it. It'll be great," she says, and Chris feels a bit better.
"You're right. Okay. I'm going to text him...something when I hang up," he says much more confidently than he feels.
"I won't keep you, then. Good luck!" she exclaims and disconnects before Chris can respond.
He lets out a puff of air before switching back to his messaging app, Josh’s name still sitting at the top.
“C’mon Chris,” he says, attempting to give himself a short pep talk. He starts typing a simple, “Hey,” much like he’s tried for the past hour and a half now, but it seems too boring. “Sup man?” seems too casual, “Greetings,” seems too formal, and “It’s Chris,” sounds like he’s messaging someone from a group project. Realistically, Chris knows that any of them will do, but for some reason, he’s stuck. He drills over their last conversation in class before deciding on,
Chris: So Impossible Mario?
His face is hot after pressing the send button, and his heart is hammering in his chest. He immediately places the phone on his nightstand and gets up to get a drink from the kitchen. Well, no need to torture myself staring and waiting, he thinks, but before he reaches his bedroom door, the vibrations of a response catch his attention.
Josh: christopher i presume? :)
Chris smiles and nods at his phone, indifferent to the fact that Josh obviously can’t see his physical response.
Chris: Hey, it could be Christian. You don’t know!
Josh: is it???
Chris: nah, Christina actually
Josh: and here i was under the impression i got a bro’s number
Chris: First of all, you gave me your number so you didn’t get anyone’s number
Josh: an unimportant detail
so impossible Mario…
Chris loosens his jaw, tight from smiling the whole time. His phone buzzes again, and it’s from Ashley. He’s excited to have some good news to offer for when he decides to check her text—for now, he’s very focused on the conversation at hand.
Chris: uh huh
I didn’t cheat and look it up. what is is?
Josh: i’d rather see your face than tell you
And Chris flushes a bit. He takes a screenshot and sends it to Ashley immediately.
Ashehole: Want to hang after class Monday?
I don’t have to work at the shop :D
Chris: SOS
WHAT DOES THIS MAEN?
Ashehole: Omg!!!
Well first of all, relax
Chris: WHAT DO I SAYYYYYY???????
HELLO????
Ashehole: I said relax
I’m here
Ask him when he’s free
Chris scoffs at the reply. Surely she doesn’t expect it to be that—
Ashehole: Yes, it’s that easy
Chris hates her.
Chris: ur psychical skills are uncanny
again, how do u do it?
Ashehole: If I told you, I’d have to kill you
Have you replied??
He realizes that he hasn’t and switches back to the thread between him and Josh. That last message hangs heavy over him, and his heart is beating an extra beat faster. He tries a few “face” puns, but they’re all either truly bad or a inappropriate for a brand new…person that he’s trying not to scare off.
Chris: Not sick of my face already?
Josh: au contraire mon frère
i haven’t seen it enough
Chris: Yet…
Josh: lemme get there :)
plus, pretty sure the face u’d make playing this would be hysterical
Oh. Maybe that’s what he meant in the first place. Chris is embarrassed but not deterred, especially since Josh is being pretty sweet. Charming might be the word he’s looking for, and he decides he likes being charmed by Josh. He’s feeling better about their conversation and decides to follow Ashley’s advice, asking when Josh is free and when he’d like to see Chris’s handsome visage outside of class.
Josh: visage is a good word
handsome is a great one to describe yours too :)
sorry, don’t mean to be weird dude lol
Chris didn’t expect him to agree. Usually when he says that or some variation to Ashley, she rolls her eyes and gives him shit, deservedly so, she insists. He feels a bit shy, but Josh flirting back grants some confidence that wasn’t there in the 2 days it took to build up courage to text him in the first place.
Chris: Not weird
glad to know you have good taste ;P
Josh: it’s the art bro in me, what can i say
And Chris laughs to himself at Josh’s unending quick wit. They eventually get around to making actual plans, both free that very evening around 7PM. He FaceTimes Ashley immediately.
“Good news?” she answers, not even saying hello or feigning interest in anything else.
“Terrifying news.”
“Oh no?” her head tilts and her face immediately crinkles in worry.
“We have plans at 7 tonight.”
“CHRI-IS,” Ashley shouts, smacking the camera of her phone with a small pillow from her bed. “You’re the worst. Oh my god, oh my god.”
“I am freaking the fuck out, Ashehole. Have some mercy on me.” He gets up and starts pacing around his room, picking up random shirts and hats strewn across it. “What should I wear? Should I go?”
“That’s a stupid question, of course you’re going. Wear a baseball tee, those look good on you.” Chris quirks his brow in agreement and starts flicking through his closet.
***
“Woah,” Chris says aloud to himself when he arrives at Josh’s apartment off campus. Chris lives off campus as well, but his shared living space is much closer to school than Josh’s is. And less swanky. He lives alone, Chris knows that much from mentioning his own roommates and Josh’s response that he’s happy to not have that problem anymore. He parks in a visitor’s spot and walks into a tastefully decorated lobby.
Josh: cool, take the elevator up :)
or the stairs if ur brave
or stupid
He snorts at the reply to his arrival, glancing around until he spots the elevator. He’s the only one to step in, and it’s a non-stop ride to the sixth floor. He takes a deep breath before actually knocking at Josh’s door.
Josh grins widely when he opens the door. “Hey! You made it!” He steps aside and gestures theatrically for Chris to enter. “Mi casa es su casa. And mi cerveza es su cerveza. If you want,” he tacks on with a shrug.
“Is that how that saying goes?” Chris smirks. He’s still nervous, honestly moreso after stepping into the apartment, so he agrees. “This is a really nice place, by the way.”
“Thanks, man,” he smiles sheepishly. “My parents insisted, and honestly they’re kinda loaded. And I hated having roommates my first two years.” Chris nods, appreciating the sentiment. His roommates were nice enough, but one of them hated to do dishes, and the other hated to take his laundry out of the dryer. He wasn’t perfect either, but those annoyances made him much more mindful of the common spaces.
“Sounds like an awesome deal. Wait, you’re a junior?”
Josh winces nearly imperceivably through his grin, but Chris catches it and feels bad for asking. “Eh, it’s my third year, but I’m a little behind on credits. Probably gonna take me five years instead of four.”
“Nothing wrong with that! The party rolls on,” Chris jokes, hoping to keep the mood light. He doesn’t find it weird, the revelation just surprised him. Josh chuckles, clinking his beer to Chris’s.
“Amen, brother. So…” he lowers his chin and makes a mischievous face, grinning crookedly and raising one brow. “Are you ready. To get. Your ass kicked?” pointing a finger and beer bottle at Chris deliberately, as if to punctuate his words.
“No, but I am ready to kick some ass. Show me this ‘Impossible Mario’ of which you speak.”
“Cocky, huh?” and for some reason, Chris needs a large swig of his beer at that. “Alright big guy, here you go.” Josh has his laptop out and an innocent looking Mario standing underneath some innocent looking instructions.
***
Chris is screaming, and Josh has fallen over towards the far side of the couch, laughing his ass off.
“This is HORSE SHIT, man!” Chris groans as the red fills up the screen and the death count reads 68. “How long is this level? Er, game? Whatever the fuck this is?”
“Oh, man,” Josh manages, sitting up and wiping a tear from his eye. “Not long enough. I could do this all night. You’re not having fun, Cochise?” he asks teasingly, slapping his hand on Chris’s shoulder and looking him dead in the eye. He has a stupid, mocking grin on his face, and Chris rolls his eyes in response as a new game starts.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in my life,” he says through gritted teeth, carefully making his way through the pre-scouted first 10 seconds of the level. “I can’t believe you asked me to play this in class.”
“I needed to entertain myself somehow,” and he loses it again when Chris yells and the screen fills red. “This in class would have been incredibly entertaining.”
Chris pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that all I am to you? A mere jester?”
“Nope,” he retorts, but doesn’t elaborate. “Are you calling it quits at 69 deaths, then?” Chris snorts. “Sixty-nine petite morts?” he insists, elbowing Chris until he laughs for real.
“Think that means ‘orgasm’ in French, dude.”
“It does.”
“I think if anyone had 69 orgasms in a day, they’d be big mort, actually,” and Josh cracks up. Chris is pleased with himself, laughing at his own joke more than he would if the other party reacted with an exasperated look like he’s so used to from Ashley.
“And what a fuckin’ way to go. Another beer?” Chris has had two, and Josh is on his third. Chris nods, and Josh heads towards the kitchen.
“I do think I’m burnt out on losing, though,” he calls from the living room, and he hears a faint hum of acknowledgement in another room.
“Well you can’t leave because I’ve already opened your beer,” Josh says, placing another bottle with prettier paper than Chris is used to on the coffee table. He takes a sip of his own, still in hand. “’t’d just be rude.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” Chris picks up his beer and takes a fair drink right away. “Just want to stop feeling like a total loser,” he fake cries, giving Josh an exaggerated pathetic look.
“Can’t change the facts,” is interrupted by an indignant “Hey!” and a shove from the blond.
Josh shoves him back playfully, and they’re shoving each other back and forth, giggling. When Josh stops using his hand, Chris shoulders him, and Josh does it right back. It goes on for a while before Chris sinks back into the couch, laugh-drunk and actually buzzed.
“Good, bro?”
“Yeah. Tipsy. Having a great time,” he turns to Josh and smiles brightly to emphasize that last part.
***
Josh’s heart skips when Chris smiles at him like that. His hair is mussed, less spikey than it was when he arrived from pulling on it as Mario’s unfair deaths drove him crazy. He really is handsome, and also really cute when he’s drunk. Or tipsy, whatever.
They have to be flirting mutually, right? They get along well, Chris is wicked funny, and they’ve been really touchy tonight, if he’s honest. Especially the past few minutes, their shoulders shoving each other back and forth across the couch.
You need to chill, dude, Josh thinks to himself, quickly breaking eye contact with that goofy grin. He feels his ears turn pink and takes a small sip of beer to distract himself.
“Are you good, bro?” Chris asks, poking Josh’s upper arm. Josh smiles and lets a breath out his nose and response in the affirmative. “Better be. Don’t make me have fun all by myself.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he quips back. “Do you want to stay over?” is the next thing he blurts out, and he feels like an idiot immediately. He lifts the bottle closer to his face, inspecting the label for an ABV that would explain his behavior. “I-it’s just. I mean if you’re drunk and don’t want to drive, is all. Couch is nice,” he blabbers, not glancing at Chris. Not wanting to know the answer.
“No, yeah it is! Really nice! Way nicer than our WalMart futon,” and Josh snorts. “And uh. Yeah, if that wouldn’t put you out. I’m not sleepy or anything, though.”
Josh smiles to himself and nods, finally looking up. “Nah, it wouldn’t. Wouldn’t have offered if I-” he cuts himself off. “If it would have.”
“Alright, cool. Thanks, man.” Chris picks up his bottle and points the neck towards Josh. “Cheers to a boys’ sleepover?”
“Cheers!” he agrees, knocking Chris’s beer with his own.